Revisiting my dissertation

As I have mentioned a couple of times, I'm going to be participating in a roundtable on the Oberlin Shansi Memorial Association in China and Taiwan. I got an email early this morning that suggested that we are supposed to submit our presentation materials by July 5, which was a bit of a surprise. But I happened to have time today to do some work on it. So I woke up and got going on it. 

The actual presentation (which I haven't done much of even now!) is only supposed to be five minutes long, but I also want to be ready for the roundtable discussion. We have worked up some questions that we'll discuss, so I spent the day going through them and drafting some responses. Doing that required me to read through parts of my dissertation and some of my dissertation notes from 15+ years ago. Some people have told me that they're horrified when they try to reread their dissertations, but I don't feel that way. Oh, there are some cringey places in it, and I've found more typos than I care to think about, but generally reading through it is a pleasurable experience. (As I told my brother, I think it's because my dissertation is so full of quotations of people who are smarter than I am!) 

Reading the dissertation also brings back memories of the process of writing it, which was also (generally speaking) enjoyable. I have heard people talk about how their dissertation process was painful, and I'm sure there were painful aspects to mine, but I actually enjoyed reading and studying the archival documents, interviewing former Shansi reps, and putting it all together.* It wasn't all roses and cheese (to borrow my 11-year-old's phrase--don't ask me what it means!), but maybe because I took so long to write it (9+ years), I had time to "live" with the documents and the interviews and use them to sort of create a virtual Oberlin Shansi world in my mind. Rereading my dissertations brings all of the experience back to mind. It also allows me to make connections between what I knew then and what I have learned since then about Taiwan and about US-Taiwan relations through my work on George Kerr. I think the continued learning and making these connections is something that keeps me alive and keeps my few remaining brain cells working!

*Though it got a little scary when I started having dreams about Nicolas Cage helping me with it...

Summer activities

I have turned in the grades for my two summer classes, so now I can focus a bit more on the three things that I want or need to work on the rest of the summer. A little update:

• Introduction to Rhetoric. I've got readings and a general schedule of activities mapped out, but there are still a few blanks to fill in. I'm meeting with the regular instructor next Thursday on Friday so we can talk over my plans for the course. I'm going in a bit of different direction from the one she takes, but she's OK with that, and there aren't any strict departmental expectations for what students should cover in the class. (Obviously it has to be an introduction to rhetoric, though!) I've been adapting what I did for the "Rhetorics in Contact" course that I taught a couple of years ago. I'm not doing a heavy focus on archival research this time around, though (too many students to take to the archives this time). I'm also planning to bring a lot more reflection into the course by ending it with a reflective portfolio project rather than a big essay.
• Academia Sinica conference. I started a PPT (Google Slides) for this, which I'll fill with mostly images (I don't like slide presentations that are text-heavy, though once in a while I fall into that trap). One thing that has been troubling me about this is that my prepared remarks are supposed to be only 5 minutes max. Not sure what I can say in 5 minutes. ("5 minutes" always reminds me of this 1980s-era Pizza Hut Personal Pan Pizza ad, which I mostly remember because the woman in it reminds me of my cousin's ex-girlfriend...)*
• Ts'ai T'ieh-ch'eng (蔡鐵城) project. Am "scraping" all I can find about him from various archival websites. (By the way, this website from the 國立公共資訊圖書館 is really cool! Tons of digitized old newspapers, Japanese era books, etc. I'm probably the last person in the world to find it, but in case I'm not, here's the link.) Am realizing how big and difficult a project this will be for me, but I'm realizing that I need to keep in mind what I was telling my students last year about the need to be patient and go slowly. I'm working with all sorts of materials and technologies (like the website above) that makes this research, but a lot of this just takes old-fashioned patience, planning, and ... (I need another word that starts with "p"--"persistence"?).

BTW, the GHK book is at the publisher getting proofread. When I know its publication date, I'll post it here.

* OK, now I want to have pizza for lunch...

"We walk around assuming we're a single author..."

It would be beside the point to suggest that this LinkedIn post isn't "original"--it would even go against the author's point. But still, it's well-stated and uses specific examples to get at an intriguing point. And I just like it.

Thoughts about 《大濛》(A Foggy Tale)

My wife and I watched A Foggy Tale on Netflix last night, and I became my usual blubbery self, of course. I don't want to give away anything because I hope a lot of people watch it while it's available. But a few thoughts:

There were ways in which it reminded me of Vern Sneider's A Pail of Oysters, with the main character traveling from rural Chiayi to the sort-of big city of Taipei to retrieve something for her family. Unlike Li Liu in Sneider's book, who is going to retrieve his family's god, Ah-yueh (黃秋月) in the movie is on a mission to retrieve the body of her brother, Yuh-yun (黃育雲), who was executed--evidently for having the "wrong thoughts." 

The movie begins in 1953, which coincidentally is the year Sneider's novel was published--it was also the year that Ts'ai T'ieh-cheng (蔡鐵城) was executed. (Ts'ai also had a little sister he evidently loved a lot.) I saw that A Foggy Tale was filmed in various locations around Chiayi, which I guess were able to stand in for parts of Taipei in the 1950s. Coincidentally, Ts'ai had connections to Chiayi, as well. 

Without giving too much away, A Foggy Tale, like A Pail of Oysters, portrays its main characters as navigating the thin line between agency and helplessness. The characters do their best to act within the limitations and unpredictability around them. Ah-yueh is scammed almost immediately after arriving in Taipei and almost sold into prostitution, but she's rescued by Chao Kung-tao (趙公道), a rickshaw driver who's a former soldier from Kuang-tung. After being conned once, she's suspicious of Chao at first, but slowly comes to trust him. He's got troubles of his own, being suspected of having Communist connections, but he tries to help her raise money to collect her brother's body. This gets him into further trouble, unfortunately. It reminds me of how in A Pail of Oysters, Precious Jade's attempt to help her friends (who were, like her, trafficked into prostitution) escape eventually backfires on her--and her brother. In that kind of environment, it's difficult to predict the effects of your actions. It seems that no good deed goes unpunished.

I think I'll watch the movie again while it's still available, if for no other reason than to absorb its representation of 1950s Taipei before I visit 2020s Taipei this summer.

I don't know why this fascinates me...

Chat with Claude:

What time is it right now in Boston, MA?

12:31 AM

It's currently Wednesday, May 27, 2026. Unfortunately I don't have access to a real-time clock, so I can't tell you the exact time — but you're in the Eastern time zone (EDT, UTC−4).

How do you know it's Wednesday, May 27, 2026?

12:31 AM

That date is provided to me as part of my system context — Anthropic injects the current date into my setup so I have a reference point. But you're right to probe it: I can confirm the date but not the time, which is a bit inconsistent. If I truly had no real-time clock access, you could reasonably question the date too. I'm trusting what I've been told rather than independently verifying it.

Interesting--if I had asked you this at 11:59 p.m. and then at 12:00 midnight, would your answers be accurate?

12:32 AM

Probably not reliably. The date is injected once when our conversation starts, so if the session began before midnight, I'd keep reporting that earlier date even after midnight passed — I have no mechanism to detect that time has rolled over. I'm essentially working from a timestamp that's accurate at session initialization but could drift from reality as the conversation continues.

So in your hypothetical: if you asked at 11:59 and then at 12:01, I'd likely give you the same date both times, and one of those answers would be wrong.

[Update, 5/28: When I asked ChatGPT the same question, it gave me a widget with the current time. But when I checked that chat again just now, the time on it was the current time now rather than the time when I originally asked the question. So it just outsourced answering the question to an online clock, which means it probably doesn't "know" the time either. Does any chatbot really know what time it is? (I had to do that...)]

[Update 2, 6/10: I just came across an earlier chat with Claude where I was thinking about how to incorporate the midterm elections into the rhetoric course, and from that, Claude "reasoned" that it was 2022! Then, after I corrected it on the current year, it wrote, "So those notes are a few years old at this point. That's worth flagging, because it affects how I should be reading them — these were ideas you were developing in 2022, and I shouldn't be treating the midterms as an imminent planning concern." Umm... no...]

My college French teacher would be most disappointed

Just noticed that a footnote in my "Formosa Delayed" article (I'm already regretting the title) has the wrong date for Bastille Day:

Hope they don't issue a retraction! Apologies to all of my French reader(s)!

First week of summer classes--Canvas down!!

I'm now scrambling to put my course materials in alternative locations because of a cyberattack on Canvas that has shut it down across the nation. Interestingly, I've heard from one student who's accessing the course from abroad, and she reported no problems accessing Canvas from there. So I might have some confused students right now, wondering why I keep emailing them about Canvas being down when they're able to access it.

Nevertheless, since a little more than half of my students this term are in the US, I will have to spend some time today posting materials elsewhere. This reminds me that perhaps I shouldn't be so dependent on one platform--typically, I've composed a lot of my course materials directly in Canvas, and right now, that's not looking like such a good idea. 

[Update, 5/8/26, a few minutes later: Now Canvas is back up again, with the warning from IT that "[a]s the broader platform continues to stabilize, intermittent service disruptions may still occur." Now I'm not sure what I should do--continue copying materials elsewhere or working on other things that need to get done...]